Adult-FanFiction.org : YuYu Hakusho

Into the Gray	By : Dementian Category: Yuyu Hakusho > Yaoi - Male/Male > Kurama/Kuwabara Views: 2206 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho and make zero money off of it.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
In the lull, and in the gray, Hiei remained.
   What Kurama might have used as a day off to recover from the party he now spent endlessly at Hiei’s side, keeping watch over him while he and Yukina worked in shifts to heal Hiei’s broken body. No amount of energy or stimulation could heal his broken mind, however, and as Friday slipped into Saturday, Hiei remained unconscious. Sunday came and went. Hiei did not change. Monday crept around, and Kurama made the risky move of asking to work from home, using his laptop and cellphone to conduct company business while he kept a steady eye on Hiei. Every so often, Hiei would moan in his sleep; a pathetic whimpering noise that should have never passed his lips. Hiei’s pride would not allow for such utterances.
   If Hiei ever asked, Kurama would lie and say he’d slept without a sound.

   Kazuma texted Kurama through the night, his concern obvious.
   “Any change?” he would ask.
   “None.”
   “You okay?”
   “Fine.”
   “Should I come over?”
   “Yukina has this handled.”
   He’d feared at first that Yukina would soon exhaust herself, that she would use up her energy on Hiei and spare none to keep her own health, but Yukina just kept pushing through the night. The only sign of her exhaustion were the bags under her eyes, and the slight appearance of sweat on her brow. Kurama relieved her as much as he could (as much as she would let him), using compresses and teas to try and heal Hiei’s stomach which had received the most damage and was the most dangerous of his wounds. During these times Yukina would curl up on Kurama’s couch next to Hiei, and in her sleep she would press her face into the crook of Hiei’s bruised neck.
   So strange, that they fit one another so well. Kurama could almost imagine them in the womb, intertwined with one another, their arms and legs a twisted singular thread. There could be no denying, when they lay next to one another and slept, that they were twins.
   “....M...” Hiei moaned in his sleep as Kurama massaged a powerful salve onto Hiei’s stomach. Its smell was deep and herbal, making Kurama’s head feel light; he had to wear gloves when he applied this salve so as to keep it off his skin. It was potent when ingested, even in the slightest forms. “Mukur-“
   Yukina reached up a hand from where it lay tucked between them, rubbing Hiei’s chest in a soothing repetitive motion.
   “Sh...” Yukina whispered, never opening her eyes. Hiei fell silent once more.
   “Any better?”
   “No.”
   “Really getting concerned. Should I come over?”
   “Yukina is here. It is fine. Have this under control.”
   “Are you okay?”
   “Fine.”
   “You know I love you?”
   “Please do not worry about me, Kazuma.”
   Kurama had been pestered like this once before in his life, hounded by a concerned voice that constantly asked ‘are you okay’ and ‘you know I love you’. At the time, Kurama had been vicious in his rebuffs, quite disgusted by the bizarre bat demon that worshiped the ground he walked on. Kuronue had been a pain, annoying him at every turn when all Kurama had wanted was glory and gold. Yet when Kurama had been injured in a heist gone wrong, and had sought refuge in a quiet glen, Kuronue had come to him and healed him.
   Oddly enough, he’d used the same salve that Kurama was now using on Hiei.
   Perhaps the memory of the smell was triggering these deep emotions within him. Perhaps he needed to use another medicine.
   As Kurama sat with his back pressed against the couch, he wallowed in those memories. He thought of nothing but those violet eyes... of the blood that had stained that bamboo thicket.
   Kuronue had adored him, and Kurama had used him like he was trash.
   Kurama would never be able to apologize for that.
   Hiei’s hand, limp as it hung from the edge of the couch, kept Kurama grounded amid the torrent of painful memories. He would hold that hand and remember all the good and powerful memories that he had with Hiei. Hiei had been his first and only partner after Kuronue... the first taste of demon world he’d ever known in human form. Hiei had come like a burning candle in the black of the night, lighting up the dark room in which he slept and reminding him of all the treasures contained within it. Hiei took no prisoners and no excuses, even in himself, and pushed Kurama to get back on his feet when Kurama felt like giving up.

   Hiei was invaluable.
   “... I know you came back... because of that night,” Kurama whispered, well aware that Hiei could not hear him as he spoke. Yukina was mixing a new salve, trying out a form of healing she rarely used in the hope that it might spark Hiei’s strength. She glanced at Kurama, but knew he was not talking to her. “Because you felt I would protect you.”
   Hiei did not stir, his shallow breaths the only sign of life he emitted.

   “I will not leave you, Hiei. I will not leave you,” Kurama assured him. He looked over at the hand which he held, remarking at how small it was in comparison with his own. Hiei’s fingers were shorter, but much stronger, worn down from the constant use of a sword and fire. Tiny grains of dried blood were underneath his fingernails and embedded into the lines of his palm.
   “I will not leave you.” Kurama whispered; in a bizarre move, he pulled Hiei’s hand to his mouth and left it there. His warm breath helped to heat the cold skin.
   Hiei’s fingers tightened ever so slightly around his own, a sign that Hiei was semi-alert.

   It took more than a week for Hiei to fully recover, and when he did Hiei did not seem content to stay. Yukina had been preparing herself for it, stopping by a local supply store to gather tiny jars Hiei could carry salves in. The calm summer air was beginning to cool with the promise of fall soon returning, and Hiei stood on Kurama’s balcony overlooking the city. Night was approaching. It would soon be dark.
   He could leave any time he wanted to now, but he stayed. Yukina was folding up blankets in Kurama’s living room, draping them over the back of the couch.
   Both of them were putting off goodbyes.
   When it seemed they could delay no longer, Yukina fetched a bag she’d brought with her from the supply store and walked out onto the balcony. Kurama did not interject, keeping silent as he observed the two from the doorway of his kitchen.
   He did not know why a Robert Frost poem came to mind now, but suddenly Kurama’s head was filled with the words of a short but powerful poem that he’d read years ago during a foreign literature class.
   “Some say the world will end in fire,
   Some say in ice.
   From what I’ve tasted of desire
   I hold with those who favor fire.
   But if it had to perish twice,
   I think I know enough of hate
   To say that for destruction ice
   Is also great
   And would suffice.”
   Kurama had read far too many books. Now they were starting to merge into his social life.
   “Well, I made you something,” Yukina said, setting her bag down on his patio table to pull out three jars of salve. She wrapped them in a white handkerchief, and Hiei took them to observe their contents closely. “So long as you don’t strain yourself, you should be alright.”

   Hiei nodded, saying nothing.

   Yukina reached into the bag and pulled out a dark cloth. When it fell open, Kurama smiled to see Hiei’s cloak. It seemed Yukina had repaired it.
   “You left this here before,” Yukina said, running her hands over the delicate black stitches she’d sown, “It really needed repairs. So I fixed it.”
   In a bold move, she wrapped the cloak around Hiei’s shoulders; Kurama marveled that though it had only fallen to his own thighs, the cloak went all the way down to the middle of Hiei’s calves and just graced the tops of his high boots. Hiei placed the salves in one of his cloak pockets to shrug it on. He allowed Yukina to button it back up, and she did so with dexterous fingers, her brow momentarily furrowed.
   “That ought to help with the cold,” Yukina murmured.
   Hiei was ever silent.
   “Well...” Yukina looked back up, a bitter smile on her face, “Isn’t this the part where you say goodbye and run away?”
   The corners of his mouth upturned, ever so slightly.
   “It is.” His voice was hoarse from days of disuse.

   “Then what more can be said?” Yukina leaned in and hugged Hiei. Her grip was not particularly tight, perhaps because of Hiei’s injuries.
   Kurama was unfortunately privy to Yukina’s tortured expression, which Hiei could not see upon his shoulder. She was barely restraining tears, her lips quivering. She managed to return her face to one of calm as she pulled back, sniffing.
   Hiei touched her face, his palm soothing and warm upon her cool skin. Yukina embraced the gesture, cupping Hiei’s hand in her own as she leaned her face into his fingers.
   He could tell her now.
   But he didn’t.
   Hiei let go, and suddenly flitted away. The only thing he left behind was a displaced pocket of air, and a broken hearted sister.
   Yukina’s face crumpled, her hand still close to her cheek from where she’d been holding Hiei’s hand only seconds before. She made a pitiful noise, and Kurama reluctantly entered the balcony to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. So long as she knew he was there supporting her, surely that would be enough.
   Yukina sniffed, wiping way her tears before they could transform into stones.
   “Is it wrong of me to wish he’d stay,” Yukina managed to splutter, her voice so haggard and chopped that it was several octaves lower than normal.

   “No,” Kurama assured her. “Of course not.”
   “One day...” Yukina promised herself aloud, “One day I am going to be with my brother. One day.”
   “You will have endless days with him.”
~*~

   Kurama could not stop thinking about Kuronue, even with the salve no longer filling his nose or Hiei upon his couch. It was as if a dam had erupted from within him, filling him with every painful memory that he had inflicted upon Kuronue. All the times he’d pushed Kuronue away or sneered at his emotional needs. Every moment that Kuronue had begged him for love, and Kurama had only walked away.
   Kuronue returned every time, eager as ever to love him and help him. That beaming expression which used to irk him and bring him amusement now only made him sick to his stomach.
   His phone vibrated upon his desk, and Kurama hastily wiped his face dry as he picked up the phone to see yet another text message from Kazuma.
   “Hey, baby, are you okay?”
   “I’m fine. Hiei is gone.”
   Kurama sniffed, pushing away from his cluttered desk and standing up to head for the kitchen where he put on a kettle. Tomorrow he would be returning to work in normal fashion. He wanted to sleep deeply tonight, and knew an herb that would suffice.
   “Yukina is here. She just filled me in. You coming tonight?”
   Kurama had no idea what to make of the text as he looked at the calendar on his phone. Had he planned anything with Kazuma this night? It was the first Sunday of September... nothing was marked.
   And then he remembered Jiro inviting him to Sunday dinner and he cursed himself as he hung his head. With Hiei and Kuronue on his mind, he’d utterly forgot about any human engagements.

   Yet Kazuma seemed to understand as much as he texted Kurama again.
   “It’s okay, I know you’re really stressed out. Don’t worry about it. Not a big deal.”
   He even sent Kurama a smiley face though Kurama was far from smiling. Still, it was... strangely comforting.
   “Thank you for being so understanding. I really appreciate it.”
   “I just want to make sure you’re not mad at me or something.”
   Kurama snorted softly, shaking his head.

   “No. I’m mad at myself. I don’t want to talk about it.”
   “Don’t be mad at yourself. You are my SUNSHINE.”

   The text which might have made Kurama laugh before only sent him into another spiral of misery. Sunshine indeed, he certainly didn’t feel like the sun right now.
   The pain in his chest only grew.

   Kurama could not stop himself, a sudden awful sound burst from his mouth as he sank down, back against his lower cupboards. The trust that Kazuma put in him, the faith that Kurama would not harm him nor leave him wanting, was undeserved and would come crashing around Kazuma’s ears very soon. Those caresses, those kisses, those moments of utter ecstasy in his arms as Kurama allowed the stress of Shiori’s sickness and Hiei’s strife to melt away... Kurama had suddenly become very reliant upon them to deal with the pain he endured.
   He felt hollow and empty, and realized suddenly how Kuronue must have felt every time Kurama left him wanting.

   His sobs were heavy and loud, abysmal and broken as they slipped past his lips.
   He couldn’t hold it in. His misery engulfed him.
~*~
   It was damn incredible to sit in a building and know he had designed it. Yusuke and Keiko were settling in well to their new establishment, and Kazuma was glad to know that Keiko had decided to continue pursuing her career as a lawyer while Yusuke took full control over the restaurant. The power and authority delighted Yusuke, who suddenly had a whole chain of command underneath him to enjoy and use. To his credit, he kept his throne behind the bar and stayed there often. From the counter, Yusuke could watch the front door as well as anyone who might go calling upon his private office; a nice notch in the corner for someone who was an experienced fighter and liked to call the shots.

   It was past midnight and the restaurant was closed, Kazuma sat at the bar quite miserable as Yusuke poured himself a drink from behind the counter. Kazuma kept his phone out on the counter, hoping that with every passing moment he might receive a text from Kurama.
   It had been over a week since last Sunday. He’d heard nothing. Something was wrong, and he was determined to make it right.
   “Sugar tits, what’s got you down?” Yusuke asked, ever aware of Kazuma’s gloomy mood as he threw back yet another shot of tequila.

   “Nothing... I fucked up and I need to repair it,” Kazuma said, though for the life of him he couldn’t figure out how he’d fucked up. “I don’t know what I did but I gotta make it right.”
   “Oh...” Yusuke murmured knowingly. “This is about your little sweetheart isn’t it?”
   “Yeah.”
   Yusuke seemed quite disturbed as he pulled out a second shot glass to pour Kazuma a drink.
   “Wow, you are worried. I say ‘sweet heart’ and you don’t tell me to fuck off. This is on a level that requires my good Fortaleza..” Yusuke said, nodding to the tequila bottle he held. Kazuma silently toasted him and threw the shot back.
   The burn was incredibly smooth; Yusuke knew how to pick his alcohol.

   “So what’s up with him?” Yusuke asked, still completely unaware that they were talking about Kurama. Until he asked, Kazuma wouldn’t tell him. He had no idea how Yusuke would react if he knew.
   “He’s real stressed, and mad at himself. I want to help him relax. I can’t get why he’s mad at himself. He’s done so much for everyone. He’s-“ but Kazuma cut himself off when he nearly said ‘He’s the only reason Hiei is alive’.
   Yusuke was getting a sly grin on his face, filling up another shot.
   “Well, I tell you what,” Yusuke said. “Suck his dick, and if that doesn’t work let me know.”

   Kazuma choked on his alcohol, clapping a hand over his mouth as his cheeks burned wildly.
   “Urameshi, you friggin punk!” Kazuma snarled; Yusuke cackled delightedly as he threw back a shot, “We’re not even on that level yet!”
   “Someone moves slow,” Yusuke remarked. “If you were my boyfriend you can sure as shit bet I’d be suckin’ your dick.“
   Kazuma groaned, wondering if Yusuke had a point. Was he moving too slow? Was that why Kurama was mad at himself? Did he think he’d done something wrong? Kazuma didn’t even know if he could give Kurama a blow job; that just seemed completely out of character for him. Yet the idea of Kurama giving him a blow job sent shivers up his spine.
   God, if that ever happened he would probably have a heart attack. The idea of Kurama’s mouth- Kazuma had to stop mid thought. This was not the kind of mental conversation he needed to be having around Yusuke.
   Keiko came out from the hidden stair well, her pink pajama bottoms dotted with embroidered cherries. With the restaurant completely empty save for the two of them, she seemed quite at ease to walk around with her hair up and moisturizer on her face. She had a coke in her hand, and as she came behind the bar she poured it over ice to top it off with a small bit of jack.
   “What are you two talking about?” she asked.
   “I was just telling Kuwabara that if I was his boyfriend I'd suck his dick.” Yusuke grinned lazily. Kazuma spluttered again, shocked (though not really) that Yusuke would admit such a thing. Keiko was unfazed, nodding in strange agreement as she smirked at Yusuke.
   “I bet you would,” Keiko said. Yusuke winked and silently toasted her.
   “How can you say that in front of your wife?” Kazuma demanded.

   “Uh, because I eat her out like a fine dining experience!” Yusuke smacked his hand on the counter as Keiko grumbled under her breath, “On the clock! Check your watch, two and half hours from now, I’m gonna be eating her out. Set an alarm!”
   Keiko threw a dirty dish towel at Yusuke, effectively muffling his lewd comments.
   “You’re an animal,” Kazuma said, disgusted. Yusuke just laughed. Keiko gave Kazuma a knowing look. She knew how to handle Yusuke; she practically had a leash around his neck at times.
   “I am not an animal,” Yusuke corrected him, “I am merely in love with a beautiful woman and open to express it. You should take a leaf out of my book.”
   “I told you,” Kazuma warned, “We’re not at that level-‘
   “Nah, hear me out.” Yusuke urged, shushing him with a hand, “4th and 23rd... ring a bell?”
   Kazuma had never heard of anything by such a name, and shook his head.
   “It’s this night club, over by Toskune road. You know the metro stop,” Yusuke assured him, and indeed Kazuma did. “It’s a pretty sweet dig, and I can get you in. The owner and I have dealings.”
   At this, Yusuke leaned in, looking quite smug as Kazuma pulled back in slight fear.
   “So what do you say?” Yusuke murmured, “Wanna go drinking with demons?”
~*~
   “Drinking with demons?” Kurama demanded over the phone, his mind loosely on five o’clock traffic as he returned home from work. Kazuma had called him as soon as he had walked out the company door, and now Kurama found himself having a most peculiar conversation while combatting a deadly headache he’d earned from crying heavily the night before. He felt sore, as if his body had been ground into a bloody pulp by his emotions.
   “That’s what he said,” Kazuma replied, sounding quite humored.
   “Well, that is a very wild nightclub from what I understand,” Kurama said, for he’d heard of 4th and 23rd and passed by it once or twice during social functions. He did not go to nightclubs, simply because he had no reason to and found them relatively boring. “I don’t doubt that demons frequent there.”
   “I think it might be fun. God only knows you’ve been working yourself to death. Please, allow me to treat you?”
   “And what about you?” Kurama asked, for he knew that Kazuma was now being pestered left and right by hopeful clients. “You have several projects to complete, you can’t just push them aside to go drinking with me.”
   “Yes, I can,” Kazuma assured him. “Easily.”
   “And how is that?”
   “Because you matter most,” Kazuma said, and the love in his voice suddenly made Kurama’s dark mood take a nasty twist. Driving along, Kurama noted a park and pulled off the road to sit in a vacant spot. During such an hour, people were eager to get home. No one was really walking about the park, save for an elderly couple and a teenager who might have been babysitting the young child in the stroller before her.
   “Please, don’t say that,” Kurama finally managed. He tried desperately to conceal the pain in his voice, praying Kazuma would not pick up on it. He could be emotionless when he wanted to, stoic and unbending, but with Kazuma it had become increasingly difficult to lie.
   Kurama did not want to hide from Kazuma. Not when Kazuma was the one he ran to to hide.
   “It’s true,” Kazuma murmured, and it seemed he could sense the sorrow in Kurama’s voice because his tone had become very soft. “I’m not going to stop saying it.”
   Kurama pulled his face away from the phone, taking several deep breaths to control his voice. When he put the phone back to his ear, he found Kazuma silent on the other end.

   “Baby, I know you’re upset,” Kazuma said. “I can hear it in your voice. Please give me the opportunity to make you feel better.”
   “I doubt this will help.” Kurama’s voice shook, and he cursed himself.
   “At least let me try?” Kazuma asked.
   “....Fine,” Kurama whispered. “Fine.”
   “I’m gonna come pick you up around seven, okay?”
   Kurama rubbed his face, noting that he had a little less than two hours to compose himself before Kazuma came and got him. He could do it, if he focused entirely on suppressing his pain. If all else failed he had a Xanax he could take, though he really didn’t want to. He had a feeling he would be drinking heavily tonight.
   “I love you.”
   There, so softly, so sweetly, and Kurama let his head fall upon his steering wheel. Without warning his horn sounded and Kurama jumped back, scaring the living hell out of himself. He gasped to gain control of his breathing, and had to pull the phone away again so that Kazuma could not hear his panic. He almost cursed at out, unable to get the image of Kuronue out of his head, saying the exact same words on a warm demon world night.
   “I have to go, I’ll see you tonight,” Kurama rushed, and before Kazuma could interject he hung up the phone. He barely did it in time, his jaw ground down tight to hide the noises bubbling up from his throat.
   He did not know who would die first from their union: Kazuma or himself.
~*~
   Kurama was silent for most of the ride to the night club, the pair of them taking the metro to avoid driving home drunk afterward, and when they got off at their stop Kurama barely said a word. Kazuma, although at ease, was obviously concerned as he kept casting Kurama worried glances. Kurama kept his eyes straight ahead on the packed street, eager to get in the building and out of the eyes of the public. Tight spaces like this, where bodies pressed in on from all sides, made him feel incredibly uncomfortable.
   The building at 4th and 23rd had a long line stretching around its side, but Yusuke had instructed Kazuma beforehand to avoid the line and go through a back door on the other side of the parking lot. As they stepped out of the crowd and into a narrow alley, Kazuma approached the slim side door and knocked firmly upon it.
   An eye slit near the top opened and a piercing glare met them.
   “You Urameshi’s friend?” a gruff issued from behind the door.
   “Yep. Kazuma Kuwabara,” Kazuma declared himself, and the door opened at swung open at once. Kurama was unsurprised to find a demon on the other side, tall and imposing in the cramped dark hallway. Even from outside Kurama’s sensitive ears could pick up the heavy constant thud of bass.
   “We’ve been expecting you,” the guard said. “Come right on in.”
   Kazuma lead the way, and when the guard closed the door behind them they were suddenly plunged into hot darkness. Kazuma’s hand sought his own, and Kurama leaned into him at once, eager to be back in the light as soon as possible. When they emerged from the hallway they were (strangely enough) on the second floor. A bar was before them, growing fuller by the minute with demons and humans alike. The dance floor was below them, a basement area jam packed with grinding bodies as the blackness was cut with neon strobe lights. The bass was wild and loud in the air, techno and dirty music smashing and colliding in the air as partiers screamed and jumped.
   Kurama eyed the bar with great interest.
   “If I’m doing this, then I’m going to need to get incredibly drunk,” he warned Kazuma. “Are you okay with that?”
   “Yeah.” Kazuma seemed quite jittery as he observed the crowd. This was not an environment for sober people. Perhaps he was having second thoughts. “I’m gonna get drunk too.”
   “Good.”
   They headed over to the bar and at once ordered drinks. Kurama did not play children’s games, heading straight for a 192 proof vodka and beginning a quest to get himself so drunk he could not think. Kurama did not drink often, having merely indulged in wine that night with Hiei because it was quite obvious that Hiei needed a drink. Now, however, in the dark with bass pounding in his ears and the eyes of several demons on him, Kurama needed to drink and quickly.

   He needed to forget those purple eyes, and fast.
   Kazuma ordered the same, and Kurama gave him a sympathetic smile as Kazuma threw a shot back and suddenly clapped a hand over his mouth.
   “... What the fuck did I just drink?” Kazuma demanded. Kurama shrugged, taking another shot. “Baby, maybe you shouldn’t be drinking that stuff-“
   Kurama threw back the fourth shot, and took a deep breath. Suddenly it was becoming easier to smile.
   It was strange, sitting at this bar in the dark with Kazuma when he’d practically been avoiding him all week. Time was suddenly slipping past him as he allowed himself to take comfort from Kazuma’s presence. To soak it up like a dry sponge would leach upon water; when Kazuma’s lips found his own it dulled the aching pain in his chest. Song after song passed by, neither of them inclined to dance. They stayed at the bar, though for the moment Kurama was content with his four shots. The alcohol was rich and heavy in his system, coursing through his veins and making him feel brave.
   He was surrounded by utter morons. He could entertain himself for hours in such a place.
   Throwing back a fifth shot, Kurama looked around and chewed his lip, suddenly eager to destroy something.

   A demon a few feet away was harassing a human girl who seemed quite eager for him to leave her alone. Pressing himself against her, he leered as she grimaced and tried to shimmy away.
   Kurama’s fingers curved, a sudden vine sprouting from his hand. It fell to the floor, creeping across the room, and-
   The demon suddenly gasped, knocked off his feet by unknown assailant as the vine wrapped around his ankles and bound him tight.

   Kurama cackled, turning back to the bar for another shot. Kazuma was watching him with a disturbed expression.

   “Did you do that?”
   Kurama grinned maliciously, downing the shot. He looked around again, searching for another victim. The human girl hurried past, taking her escape route for the door.
   “You’re mean!” Kazuma grinned. “I love it.”
   “I want to get someone...else.” Kurama looked around for his next target. He found none available.
   “Get me,” Kazuma slurred, and Kurama flashed him a delighted grin as he suddenly reached around and grabbed Kazuma’s ass. Kazuma gasped.
   “Damn baby, you grab hard.” Kazuma laughed as Kurama pressed a kiss to the corner of Kazuma’s mouth.
   “Hey!”
   They were interjected upon by a demon, tall and broad shouldered, who looked Kurama up and down as though he were a succulent piece of meat. Kurama instantly began to laugh. What utter pomposity.
   “What’s your name?” the guy asked, perhaps thinking Kurama’s laughter had been an invitation.
   "No!" he scoffed, his voice so cutting that it actually hurt his throat. The demon, irked by his hard rebuttal, turned away at once with a scowl.
   “Well, well, well,” Kazuma teased, “Where did those manners go?”
   “Fuck manners,” Kurama cursed. “I won’t be taken upon by those-“ he waved a hand, “Mediocre creeps.”
   But they didn’t get much time alone as yet another demon approached.
   “Damn, girl.” His expression was even more ravenous than the last, and his figure was hulking with long claws. “You fine--“
   “First of all-!" Kurama snarled, turning with such anger that the demon immediately took a cautionary step back, “I am not a girl!”
   “You still fine!” the demon said, not put off in the least.

   “He’s also taken,” Kazuma warned, and Kurama’s heart leapt up into his throat as a strong had suddenly came around his waist and squeezed hard. Those fingers, so powerful and smooth upon this hip, made his pulse flutter.
   “By you?” the demon leered. “Not much competition there.”
   Kurama had heard enough; a vine shot from his fingers, closing the short distance between the two of them to slip tightly around the demon’s neck.
   “Should I kill him?” Kurama asked Kazuma lazily. “I could do it, you know.”
   “No!“ Kazuma said at once, his grip tightening, “Kurama stop-!"
   “Why not?” Kurama demanded, his tone hard as the demon struggled. The bar was too busy, too full of motion and activity for anyone to notice his predicament. “Have you forgotten how easily I can take a life?”
   “That’s not who you are!” Kazuma snapped. “Let him go. He’s just some creep. He’s not worth it.”
   Not who you are, indeed. Kurama flexed his fingers and the vine slipped away from the demon’s neck. It vanished, its energy dissipating entirely. The demon gasped, staggering back as he rubbed his neck in fear. He turned and vanished, no doubt eager to put a great deal of space between him and Kurama.
   At the bar, Kurama sulked. He took another shot, wishing that he could drink himself to death as Kazuma pulled him a little closer. His hip was now pressed gently to Kazuma’s thigh. In his drunk state, Kurama could feel Kazuma’s length against his leg.
   A dark, devious thought came to mind, but he crushed it at once. He suddenly wished he was home so he could scream and throw something.
   Kazuma could see his expression darkening. He rubbed Kurama’s back with his broad thumb, his hand still firm on Kurama’s waist.
   “Baby what the hell was that?” Kazuma asked. “That’s not you.”
   “... Yeah?” Kurama whispered, the alcohol in his system making his lips loose. “You so sure about that?”
   “Yeah.” Kazuma’s voice was firm and strong, “I am.”
   His eyes bore into the side of Kurama’s face. Their gaze heated Kurama’s skin.
   “Is that what this is all about?” Kazuma asked. “Is that why you’ve been upset? Are you thinking about stuff that’s happened in the past?”
   Kurama suddenly tried to pull away but Kazuma wouldn’t let him. He held Kurama tight by the waist, pressing his face into Kurama’s hair as Kurama trembled beneath his fingers.
   “Baby, none of that shit matters to me.” Kazuma urged him. “That’s not who you are.”
   Kurama couldn’t handle it.
   “Stop!” Kurama blurted out. “Please just stop. You don’t understand, you don’t know who I am. What I’ve done. All you know is what you see-“
   Hiei screaming upon Yusuke’s couch, his face screwed up in a tormented rage.
   Violet eyes brimming with tears; Kuronue on his knees begging for Kurama to stay, grabbing at his leg as he made to walk out-
   Kurama turned in Kazuma’s hold and ordered another round, feverishly throwing back two more shots. When he tried to throw back a third, Kazuma put his hand on top of the shot glass and pried it away from Kurama’s hands. His grip was so strong that Kurama could not hold on, and without alcohol to run to Kazuma was suddenly far too close. Far too real.
   Far too much like Kuronue.
   “... You don’t need to be drinking,” Kazuma murmured. “Come on.”
   Kurama could not pull away from his grip, and had no choice but to follow as Kazuma paid their tab and began to pull him for the same door they’d taken only an hour prior. As they stumbled back onto the street, Kazuma’s hand was the only thing Kurama could focus on. He suddenly realized the danger of throwing back ten shots of 192 proof vodka in rapid succession. He knew how to handle himself well, and in all honest truth was not so far gone that he would begin stumbling or retching, but his emotions were spinning wildly out of control. Therein lay the danger.
   They took the metro back to Kurama’s apartment.
   Once safely inside the confines of Kurama’s home, Kazuma let go of Kurama’s hand and finally allowed him to roam free. His eyes bore into Kurama, watching everything Kurama did as if waiting for him to trip and fall or burst into tears. Neither would be happening tonight.
   It might be time to end this. To tell Kazuma to go home and find someone new to love. The thought made Kurama burn with a seething anger, a hot and ugly jealousy as he suddenly craved the warmth and comfort he’d found in Kazuma’s arms. Ironic that he should need it now to escape from the wary eyes of Kazuma himself. Kurama needed Kazuma to escape from Kazuma. How very queer.
   He strayed past the sofa in his living room, his hand absently trailing over the wicker handle of Hiei’s gift basket. He still had yet to find something to do with it. Kazuma watched him, speaking up in the darkness as Kurama roamed aimlessly about the room.
   “... Hiei healed up?” Kazuma asked.
   “Yeah,” Kurama mumbled, his mouth still heavy with alcohol. “Yukina worked... very hard. We managed... we saved him. She saved him,” Kurama stubbornly corrected himself. “I knew she would.”
   “Why did you take Yukina with you that night? If anything, I should have been here.”.
   Kurama shook his head.
   “Hiei needed her so much,” Kurama’s tone was broken, and he knew the ugly sadness within him was beginning to show. Kazuma was going to start getting suspicious but he couldn’t stop himself as he looked sadly out the balcony door. “I couldn’t deny him her love.”
   “Deny him her love?” Kazuma said, sounding very confused. “What are you talking about?”
   Kurama looked away.
   For a moment a swelling tense silence filled between them, threatening to burst at any minute. When it finally did, Kazuma’s voice had changed. It was now hard, hurt and bitter from Kurama’s secretive stance.
   “Something’s going on, isn’t it?” Kazuma said. “I’m not stupid.”
No, he wasn’t. He was incredibly insightful, always seeming to know without trying how to pull Kurama’s mind from the darkest places and placate all rational thought with his caring eyes and kind smile. It was a problem; a problem, because Kurama was less-equipped to protect Kazuma when Kazuma made him so very weak. The evidence was in the present moment, as Kazuma was beginning to realize what Kurama had known all along but had chosen selfishly to ignore – that their involvement had been a horrible mistake, one which would now cause Kazuma undue pain even though he had only gotten to this place by innocently and optimistically pursuing what he thought would make him happy.

   “I’ve never said that you were stupid!" Kurama snarled, unable to control the anger in his voice.
   In truth, Kazuma was too smart for his own good.
   “But you won’t deny that something is going on behind my back,” Kazuma snapped. “We’re- what are we, Kurama? Are we boyfriends? What? Whatever we are, I think we have something really important going. I thought we shared everything with each other. But something is going on and you’re not telling me.”

   But how could Kurama tell Kazuma, when he’d kept this secret for so long? And it wasn’t even his secret to tell.
   His silence was just hurting Kazuma more. When he spoke next, his tone was cold and angry, “... You guys think I’m really stupid.”
   “Kazuma-!” Kurama began again but Kazuma cut him off.
   “What is it?!” Kazuma demanded, “Go on! Go on ahead and tell me! Or are you gonna leave me to hang and dry like you did when Genkai died? Let me figure it out on my own, and look like a fool! It’s all some big game to you guys, isn’t it?”
   “That was not a game, and neither is this!” Kurama yelled, whirling around to glare at Kazuma. He found Kazuma’s face to be filled with an insidious rage, and it unsettled him to see it.
   “It’s not my secret to tell!” Kurama blurted out, gesturing to himself helplessly, “The only reason I know is because I knew Hiei first, before we even rescued Yukina-!”
   Kazuma’s mouth fell open a little as his brow furrowed.
   “... Hiei’s got a secret to do with Yukina?” Kazuma said.
   Kurama’s heart pounded in his chest, the alcohol he’d drank making his head spin as his breath came shorter and faster.
   “I wanted to tell you,” Kurama was practically begging. “But I couldn’t. Not when you were in love with Yukina, and I thought you ... might... tell...her.”
   Kazuma was staring at him with a growing rage.
   He knew.
   “Oh, God,” Kazuma whispered, touching his mouth as he turned away. Kurama looked down, bracing himself.
   “They’re the same height, the same eye color- Jesus fucking Christ!” Kazuma screamed. There was a resounding crash as he grabbed an open book on Kurama’s couch and hurled it violently at the wall. It fell to the floor, hitting another stack of books, and papers suddenly went flying.
   “Hiei’s her brother!” Kazuma blurted out, his voice a terrible and tortured thing, “Kurama! Look at me! Look me in the eye and tell me Hiei is Yukina’s brother!”
   Kurama threw his hands up in the air, turning away. He couldn’t handle this pain, this rage, not when his own was spinning so wildly in his chest.
   “We couldn’t tell you, Kazuma!” Kurama shouted back, his voice strained with fear; he dared not turn around now. “It wasn’t our secret to tell-“
   “We?! WE?!” Kazuma roared the word, “God fucking dammit! Urameshi knows! Everyone knows! I bet even Yukina knows!”
   Kurama would not lie to him. “Y-yes,” he stuttered.
   “I was the only one,” Kazuma snarled.
   “Yes.”
   “For years! For all these fucking years!”
   “Yes.” Kurama’s voice broke.
   Kazuma could take no more. “Right,” he spat. “Thanks.”
   The storming footfalls receded, and suddenly a panic leapt into Kurama’s heart as he ran into the hallway after Kazuma. As Kazuma grabbed the door to wrench it open, Kurama threw himself in front of it, blocking the way.
   “Kazuma, wait!” Kurama begged, “You don’t understand-!”
   “Oh, I understand!” Kazuma roared, and when he turned onto Kurama it was with such menace and loathing that Kurama could barely believe this was the same man who had held him so tenderly. It was like a different personality altogether, a hollow image of what had once been before.
It frightened Kurama senseless.
Kazuma pressed him hard into the door as he assaulted him with words, his breath hot and angry on Kurama’s face, his thunderous voice so overpowering that Kurama felt whatever was left of his heart would likely break:
   “This is why I hate secrets! I hate them because I never know them! Because no one trusts me; because I’m stupid!”
   “Kazuma, you are not stupid!” Kurama begged.
   “You say I’m not stupid but then you go and pull this shit! You keep things from me!”
   “I wasn’t trying to!” Kurama’s voice did not even sound like his own. This pleading tone... could it really be his?
   “And what about that ‘small, private matter’? You think I can’t put two and two together? You think I don’t know how sick your mom is? I could help you just as much as Hiei, Kurama! I want to help! But, hey, I guess I’m too stupid and untrustworthy!”
   “I deserve to suffer alone!” Kurama screamed, unable to bear the topic switching to Shiori, not when he was already in so much pain.
   For a moment, a painful silence filled the space between them. Such an overwhelming, miserable silence it was that Kurama hated it more than being yelled at.
   Kazuma was the one who broke it.
   “... But does she?” he asked. His voice had dropped to its normal volume. For all the calm in his tone however, he could have punched Kurama in the gut with his words.
   Kurama gaped, turning away, unable to face Kazuma. His breath was short and static, he could barely summon a reply.
   “You don’t know what you do to people. How you make me hurt.” Kazuma’s voice was bitter, Kurama wanted to die just listening to it. He wanted to die from the pain. “For all the times I’ve said ‘I love you,’ have you ever said it back?”

   Kurama bowed his head.
   He knew the awful answer to that question.
   “... I think you just let me in on another secret,” Kazuma whispered, pushing Kurama aside.
   The sound of his door slamming made Kurama wince.
   For a moment he could do nothing but stand in the hallway, leaning against the wall, filled to the brim with horrific pain.
   Then, Kurama began to slide down, his knees giving out as he hit the floor.

The noise that came from him was inhuman, ugly and horrible. But even now, he knew what he had to do. He knew Kazuma was extremely angry, broken-hearted, and that there was only one person who could fix it.
   Shaking violently, Kurama pulled his phone from the pocket of his jeans. It took him much longer than usual to open up his address book and find the right contact.
   “Kazuma knows the truth about Hiei. Help him.” Kurama sent the text.
   For five or so minutes, nothing came back.
   “FUCK. On it. Thnx.” A sound response.
   Kurama’s hands slipped from around his phone. It fell with a clatter onto tatami mats as he held his head low, another ugly sound escaping his lips.
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Into the Gray